Earlier this week my cousin (another one who’s like a big brother to me) revealed that he is planning on proposing to his girlfriend this weekend. Squeaaal! He just turned 30 years old and had revealed the last time we saw each other that he was ready to settle down and have a family. So this was not a total surprise. Congrats, I said.
And then he emailed me a picture of the ring. Now why you wanna go and do that? It’s everything you would expect from an ‘every kiss begins with Kay’s’ and “he went to Jarred”, commercial. “Awww,” was my reply.
Then Wednesday night I went out with a guy friend and he talmbout how he and his ex girlfriend had rekindled and now she wants to get back together. He wasn’t so sure. Because on the one hand he feels more productive when he’s by himself and can really get on his grind work wise, but on the other hand he also likes the comfort of being in a relationship. And having someone to well you know do stuff with. And how come we as a people never address the fact that men hate to be alone? That women keep coming off as the "weak" ones cause we lament about our lack of dates, but still keep charging through this thing life - whereas this nig can't even go one month without some type of female companionship in his life. But as usual I digress. I sat and listened, keeping my thoughts to myself, but all signs pointed to them getting back together.
And then yesterday my cousin revealed that he was headed to Jamaica because that’s where he is planning on proposing. Hold up. Wait a minute! You left out that part of the story. For real though. You are going to a sunny island, with an awesome ring in your pocket, probably gonna plan some uber romantic way to propose and then propose?!? That’s how you gon’ do it? My response to him. Verbatim: Well alright. I’m fina head to church for this meeting. Then I’ma lay myself across the altar. And then head home and have a good cry. But you have fun!
And just like that without warning the green eyed monster reared its ugly head. Funny how that little bastard just pops up, like “yo yo yo it’s been a minute since we’ve seen each other. Who we hatin’ on today?” Everybody, green eyed monster. Everybody who has them a somebody. Sigh. Of course that’s not right. Of course you shouldn’t say those kinds of things. Of course you should stay positive. And know that God has something better for you. And that there’s someone out there just for you. Yeah! And whatever else is supposed to keep single women calm and away from cliffs.
But sometimes in the right now, when you don’t have a crystal ball, or real prospects, when you wake up in a house by yourself and don’t speak to a single soul until you arrive to work, when you carry the heavy load of life in your own two hands, in your pocketbook and sometimes on your back, when it’s been such a long time you forgot that you were fine, and when you’ve been alone for so long that you can’t even conceive what it would be like to be able to put down your bags and lean on someone else, it sucks. Period. Point blank. Sucks.
There are meaningful words of encouragement dispensed by friends who want only the best for you. There are pastors who deliver sermons on how God never meant for anyone to be alone that are meant to be comforting, but can sometimes have you questioning, wrestling with your own faith. And there are people who don’t understand who will tell you to buck up, get it together grouch, unball yourself from outta that corner, who can’t comprehend what exactly you’re going through (cause your life isn’t bad at all) because the truth is sometimes you can’t even comprehend that you can go through this life working, laughing, and pirouetting, thinking you are totally fine, but all this time loneliness has covertly been seeping into your insides and then working its way back out, so that by the time you realize what’s happening, you can feel it all over your body, from the hairs that stand up on your arms, to your pulsating fingertips, all the way into the polish that covers your toenails.
It is a sadness that you hope passes. And eventually it does. Brownies help. A good cry in the dark does wonders. Prayer works. Mental health days give you peace. Shifting the negative energy into something else (a hobby, exercise, a rum & coke - heh) makes you feel a wee bit better. Stuffing the green eyed monster back into his cage and putting on the padlock is a good starting place. Continuing to smile until even you believe it is so necessary. Resuming the working, laughing, and the pirouetting, so your eyes can return to their normal color.
And then he emailed me a picture of the ring. Now why you wanna go and do that? It’s everything you would expect from an ‘every kiss begins with Kay’s’ and “he went to Jarred”, commercial. “Awww,” was my reply.
Then Wednesday night I went out with a guy friend and he talmbout how he and his ex girlfriend had rekindled and now she wants to get back together. He wasn’t so sure. Because on the one hand he feels more productive when he’s by himself and can really get on his grind work wise, but on the other hand he also likes the comfort of being in a relationship. And having someone to well you know do stuff with. And how come we as a people never address the fact that men hate to be alone? That women keep coming off as the "weak" ones cause we lament about our lack of dates, but still keep charging through this thing life - whereas this nig can't even go one month without some type of female companionship in his life. But as usual I digress. I sat and listened, keeping my thoughts to myself, but all signs pointed to them getting back together.
And then yesterday my cousin revealed that he was headed to Jamaica because that’s where he is planning on proposing. Hold up. Wait a minute! You left out that part of the story. For real though. You are going to a sunny island, with an awesome ring in your pocket, probably gonna plan some uber romantic way to propose and then propose?!? That’s how you gon’ do it? My response to him. Verbatim: Well alright. I’m fina head to church for this meeting. Then I’ma lay myself across the altar. And then head home and have a good cry. But you have fun!
And just like that without warning the green eyed monster reared its ugly head. Funny how that little bastard just pops up, like “yo yo yo it’s been a minute since we’ve seen each other. Who we hatin’ on today?” Everybody, green eyed monster. Everybody who has them a somebody. Sigh. Of course that’s not right. Of course you shouldn’t say those kinds of things. Of course you should stay positive. And know that God has something better for you. And that there’s someone out there just for you. Yeah! And whatever else is supposed to keep single women calm and away from cliffs.
But sometimes in the right now, when you don’t have a crystal ball, or real prospects, when you wake up in a house by yourself and don’t speak to a single soul until you arrive to work, when you carry the heavy load of life in your own two hands, in your pocketbook and sometimes on your back, when it’s been such a long time you forgot that you were fine, and when you’ve been alone for so long that you can’t even conceive what it would be like to be able to put down your bags and lean on someone else, it sucks. Period. Point blank. Sucks.
There are meaningful words of encouragement dispensed by friends who want only the best for you. There are pastors who deliver sermons on how God never meant for anyone to be alone that are meant to be comforting, but can sometimes have you questioning, wrestling with your own faith. And there are people who don’t understand who will tell you to buck up, get it together grouch, unball yourself from outta that corner, who can’t comprehend what exactly you’re going through (cause your life isn’t bad at all) because the truth is sometimes you can’t even comprehend that you can go through this life working, laughing, and pirouetting, thinking you are totally fine, but all this time loneliness has covertly been seeping into your insides and then working its way back out, so that by the time you realize what’s happening, you can feel it all over your body, from the hairs that stand up on your arms, to your pulsating fingertips, all the way into the polish that covers your toenails.
It is a sadness that you hope passes. And eventually it does. Brownies help. A good cry in the dark does wonders. Prayer works. Mental health days give you peace. Shifting the negative energy into something else (a hobby, exercise, a rum & coke - heh) makes you feel a wee bit better. Stuffing the green eyed monster back into his cage and putting on the padlock is a good starting place. Continuing to smile until even you believe it is so necessary. Resuming the working, laughing, and the pirouetting, so your eyes can return to their normal color.
That’s my time y’all! Happy Rum Punch Friday!
